Page 276 of Shadowman

He manages to get it off, and Hancock immediately groans, spitting on the floor. “Jesus motherfucking Mary and Joseph! That thing wassouncomfortable.” He unbuckles the clip of the leash from his collar and grunts, “Kang, be a pal and pull this fucking plug out of my ass, would you?”

“Pretty sure you can do that yourself,” I mutter, dropping the leash onto the floor, eyes springing back to Dash. “And I’m notsidingwith him. I’m just here. Not that it matters… Velle doesn’t care about me, so what difference does it make??”

Dash looks like he wants to argue, but I think he realizes it’s pointless. He knows damn well Velle only cares about three things in this world… Rook, Joy, and himself.

“Well, what about Luthor and Ren?” he asks, and my heart sinks like a hunk of concrete tossed into the ocean. “They must be over there, right?? How could you not be with them?”

Swallowing is difficult, as if my throat is closing up. I glance at Trevel, who’s giving me a very intense look, then Hancock, whose face falls in despair.

Dash must be noting the grim expressions and the sudden mist of sadness covering us all. His shoulders drop, eyes widened with unease. “What…?”

“Dash…” I shake my head slowly. “Luthor and Ren are… They didn’t…”

I physically can’t say the words. It feels like knives are stabbing me in the heart every time Ithinkthem. Speaking them out loud solidifies it.

My best friends are dead.

Dash trembles, a knowing heartbreak instantly overwhelming his pretty face. I can see his breathing shift as his chest jumps up and down.

“No…” he whispers in a voice suddenly small and innocent, like a child. A complete shift from the confidence of a moment ago.

I finally manage to croak, “They’re dead. Luthor and Ren are…” My voice cuts out in a ragged sob, and I cover my face. “They tried to escape, but they… didn’t make it.”

“No…” Dash whimpers, but I keep my hands covering my face. I can’t look at him right now. I justcan’t.I’ll break the fuck down.“No no no…What??That doesn’t make any…Fuck, Byron. You’re not fucking serious!”

He’s crumbling, voice even raspier than usual and jagged with emotion as he launches himself at me.

“It’s not true…” He sobs quietly into the crook of my neck, quivering uncontrollably.

Fuck me, I can’t do this…

Tears well and fall from my eyes while Dash hugs onto me so hard, he’s crushing my ribs. Or maybe that’s the pain…

Slowly, the stiffness in my muscles eases, and I circle his waist with my arms. The second it happens, I fall the fuck apart.

Dash and I are holding on to one another for dear life, tears tumbling, wetting each other’s skin. We’re both shaking, gasping for breath, and attempting to hold ourselves together, when in reality, I think we’re the only thing holding each other together right now.

No one else has been able to give me this… Not even Trevel. No one gets it. They don’t understand this devastation like Dash and I do. Luthor and Ren were ourbest friendsin the entire world. We’ve been through so much together. They meant more to us than anyone else on this godforsaken island…

It’s fucking crazy to think about, but I never had real friendships until I came to Alabaster Pen. I never had this sort of connection. An almost familial bond I never even had with my own flesh and blood. We were like the crew from theFast and the Furiousmovies. Bad guys banding together, having each other’s backs, no matter what. We fight, then we make up, because above all else, we’re afamily.

But I never got to…

“I never got to… tell them I’m… sorry,” I heave into Dash’s chest while he struggles to breathe through his own sobs. “We had a fight… after you left. I was angry at them, and I—”

“I know,” he hums, consoling me with his tone and his palm cradling the back of my head. “I get it.”

“There was so much I should’ve s-said,” I sniffle. “And now it’s too late. I’m the shittiest friend ever…”

Dash pulls back, forcing me to abandon the humility of being vulnerable like this and meet his eyes. The hazel is glassy and red-rimmed, but still such a comfort right now.

I swallow past the memories trying to push their way to the surface of my mind.

“You’re not,” he says with quavering sincerity. “Trust me, I have my own regrets. But I’m sure they knew, Byron. I’mpositivethey knew how much they meant to you.”

I’m so grateful for him being here in this moment. For trying to cheer me up and placate my unbearable remorse.

But he doesn’t know the whole story…